In The Dark
by Safe Haven
Summary: This is a story about nightmares in the dark, whispers in the shadows, and candle flames at midnight. It's about empty rooms, and kindness where it's not expected. Aside than that, it's a story about memory. Enjoy. (Oneshot)


The night wind whispered softly as it skimmed over the stone wall of the palace, darting into the empty courtyard and stirring up a few dust motes just for the hell of it. Tiptoeing lightly over the cold stones, the breeze danced in between the empty buildings, hissing gently over the paper shoji screens and parting around the elegant torii arches.

Sighing to itself, the breeze slithered through an open window into a small, simple room. It was bare for the most part, holding only a thin futon in a corner and a small lamp by the door. The sputtering flame that danced in the shallow iron dish of lamp oil flickered and shuddered as the wind caressed it, before it was blown out completely.

The breeze moved on, skimming lightly over the face of the dark-haired boy that lay on the futon. The cool breath of the night did nothing to diminish the sheen of sweat on the boy's forehead, or calm his twisted expression. The boy's hands clenched and unclenched as he turned and writhed on the faded futon, his breathing shallow and ragged as he walked the dark paths of nightmare once more.

_People around him, visages half-covered with metal masks, yet still familiar; a pain in his neck and a weapon in his hand. One woman he could see clearly – her face! Her face... The people in armor moved like ghosts around him, muffled shouts and calls on the verge of hearing. These people..._

The dark-haired boy whimpered in his sleep, tossed about in the turmoil of half-obscured memory. Something in him knew what was going to happen next, something terrible. He didn't want to remember. "Father..."

_These people..._

The boy awoke with a start and a small, muffled cry, gasping for breath. When he realized where he was, he calmed down somewhat. It was so dark. The phantoms that haunted his dreams seemed to now lurk in the darkness of the room. The light... Where was the light?

He didn't bother to look for the lamp, but merely sat still on the bare futon, staring at nothing. The nightmares were getting stronger, to the point where they came every night and turned his sleep to a walk in hell. He had even seen them sometimes during the day, a few glimpses of something terrible and strange in his mind's eye that faded as suddenly as they appeared.

The paper screen slid open and a dark-haired woman stepped through, her bare feet soundless on the cold floor. There was a candle in her hands; she had brought new light with her.

Silently, she relit the extinguished lamp and set the candle down next to it, before sitting down next to the dark-haired boy. Neither of them said anything for awhile, merely watched the two dancing flames for several long minutes.

"Nightmares?" the woman said after some time had passed. She spoke softly, barely more than a whisper, as if afraid that the boy might shatter like glass if she was too loud.

"I was...remembering again," the boy answered in a dry, broken mumble.

The woman said nothing, but there was kindness in her eyes.

"Remembering something horrible," he continued. "I don't know what, but I...I..." Closing his eyes, he lowered his head and gritted his teeth as he fought against the stinging hot tears that threatened to rise up.

"Shhhh," the woman bade him, draping a comforting arm around his shaking shoulders and pulling him close. He leaned into her side, crying silently onto her shoulder. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything if you don't want."

"No, I need to say it."

"Alright then, you know you can tell me," she said quietly, gently brushing a lock of dark hair away from his face.

The boy nodded and sniffed, embarrassed at his blatant display of weakness. He raised a hand to half-heartedly brush away the tears on his cheeks but didn't pull away from the woman.

"I don't want to remember," he murmured, his head on her shoulder, watching the flickering candle flames again. "Horrible, something horrible... Something that I did?"

"It's okay, Kohaku," she whispered kindly. In the young boy's eyes there was the shadowed bitterness of one who had lost everything; it lurked just below the surface, beneath a fading barrier. _The shield could break,_ the woman thought to herself, looking down at the top of Kohaku's head. _And if he remembers, if the veil breaks...will he break with it?_

With an almost motherly tenderness, she brushed away the tears that were again beginning to leak out of the boy's eyes as he raised his head to look into her face.

"It's okay," she repeated again. "It's okay."

After a time, Kohaku stopped leaning on her and she dropped her arm from around his shoulders. She stood and picked up the candle she had placed by the sputtering lamp, and made to leave.

"Kagura?" called Kohaku as the woman reached the door.

The wind sorceress stopped and turned, the shuddering flame of the candle in her hand casting flickering shadows over her face. "Yes?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For saying it's okay." Kohaku lay down on his futon, his tired eyes watching the dancing shadows on the ceiling above. "Even when it's not."

Kagura nodded. Without saying a word, she stepped out into the hallway, sliding the paper screen shut as she went. Behind her, the breeze whispered empty promises over the young boy as his eyes closed, and he slipped back into darkness.


End file.
